


Fugitives

by Sephiratale



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: NSFW, Post-Game, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:52:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephiratale/pseuds/Sephiratale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katarina Hawke and Anders must hide where they can after the Kirkwall Rebellion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fugitives

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, this is the first time I write smut and it's also the first fic of my Katarina Hawke. And sorry for the summary, but I'm not a big fan of it. 
> 
> For the moment, it's only a chapter but maybe I will continue it. 
> 
> I want to thank guileandgall for her great help! Thanks again

_ Varric, _

 

_ First of all, I’m sorry for the lack of news. Being a fugitive isn’t exactly the best way to improve my writing skills. But for once since I left Kirkwall, I have the time to write. Obvious, isn’t it? As you are reading the letter. _

 

_ I’m fine. We’re as fine as we can be. We never stopped moving the first weeks─there are  so many people on Anders’ trail. We  escaped their traps, for the moment, but they haven’t really gotten creative yet. We have the chance to stay in a house for few days. I’ve really missed a warm bed. _

 

_ I will leave you here, my dear dwarf, and let your storyteller mind imagine the rest of my journey. I know you’ll find a way to contact me. I hope you have news from the others, as I know I was not the only one to flee. _

 

_ If you see them, pet Watson and Bethany for me … well maybe not Bethany, just say hi! _

 

_ Hawke _

 

I put the letter in the envelope and scrawl Varric’s address, with a merchant’s aspect to be less suspicious. Leaning against the wooden chair with a sigh, I feel tired. My body protests for every move, it seems happy in a house, though it was not so delicate when we were outside.

 

Three months have passed since the Kirkwall Rebellion, since we left the city like fugitives. I don’t regret my choice, but it’s strange to be the Champion one day and to be one of the most wanted  the next … Life is so changeable.

 

The first weeks were terrible, we barely slept, always outside, always ready to run. We were a living mess with our dirty clothes, our bad hair, I never thought I could care about something like that. We hid in caves or abandoned houses, bathed in cold rivers _ ─ _ I’m surprised I did not die from a cold.

 

We are lucky these farmers let us sleep in the house of their son, who is in the mountains with a herd for a month. We even had the luxury to take a bath, and, of course, bought new clothes. I burned the old ones, except for my Champion’s Armor; I’m quite sentimental about it. Anders just needs to help the villagers. I hope they won’t find who we are too quickly, at least not before I can get a proper night’s sleep.

 

The night has already fallen, I can only hope he will not forget to sleep. Sometimes, he loses himself, concentrating fully on his tasks to the point that he forgets everything.

 

My eyes wander in the one-piece borrowed house. Everything is made of newer pine, the scent of the wood still lingers, except for the lit hearth of stone, which is quite charming actually. The square table  sits at the center of the room. 

 

Looking around, I hope the owner of this place doesn’t plan to have a big family or I don’t know where the children would sleep. The bed is barely large enough for two, as long as they can sleep very close to each other, which does not bother me at all of course. I quickly tried out the mattress earlier, not as comfy as mine in Kirkwall, but a lot better than the ground. The little bathtub is in a corner, was is quite a rare treat.  The shelves all around the place are dotted with small brikabrak of all sorts─the owner seems to collect everything and nothing. So far, I found rusted swords, different sorts of hats, old jewelry; it reminds me of a very, small Black Emporium. 

 

Hearing the door, I wonder who it could be for a moment before recalling that it can only be Anders. He leans his staff against a wall, seeming to be elsewhere. I suppose Justice is speaking to him, telling him how bad an idea is it to have me by his side. Dear Justice, one day, we’ll get rid of you, but you don’t know it yet. He sees me, at last. I can see  the exhaustion on his face; dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders are slumped, the number of sighs he exhales without noticing. He crosses the short distance between the entrance and my seat at the table.

 

“Hi,” he says with a smile.

 

“Hi.”

 

His lips land upon mine, desperate. I know we are running, but I wonder what’s on his mind. I catch his mantle, deepening our kiss, our tongues meeting. Too bad we need to breathe.

 

Anders let out a loud sigh, straightening up, his left hand briefly finds my cheek. He walks about the room. I watch him. I’m not used to his new green coat, but changing colors can’t hurt. His hair has grown a bit, but he still ties the upper half back. Right now, it’s only a loose ponytail. Despite his weariness, he finds the strength to stand straight. I don’t know exactly why, but I like to watch his back. Maybe because I know what the clothes are hiding.

 

I stand up, my body protests a bit. When I’m at his height, I see he has his face in his hands.

 

“Anders?”

 

“Sorry, I did not mean to worry you.” He interrupts me. “It’s just … I saw a woman, who died in the arms of her husband today. She was sick and it was too late to save her. And I could not …”

 

His eyes begin to shine with tears. I hug him, I don’t want to listen his words. I know what he was thinking when he witnessed that woman die and I really don’t want to hear these words, not now, never. 

 

“I have a surprising news for you. I’m not dying! And I intend to make your life hell for many years,” I add with a mischievous smile.

 

I feel his silent laugh in his chest, his arms are around me.

 

“As you have for the last three years?” he asks, raising an amused eyebrow.

 

“Oh, it will get worse. I promise.”

 

“Sometimes, you’re a pain in the ass, Hawke. But I’ve been fine with this for three years, I’ll be fine for the future as well.”

 

I want to retort, but he kisses me once more, with passion, and all my clever words die in my brain. When his tongue meets mine, I know I’m lost in our kiss and I’m at his mercy. His arms tighten around my body before his hands descend to find the end of my shirt. His fingers slid on my skin, making me thrill. He pulls the blouse off. Quickly, his hands move to untie my trousers, but I stop him gently. Our chests both rise heavily and I feel a stupid grin on my face. He watches me with a questioning look.

 

“Anders, no need to rush this time. We have the time for once, let’s enjoy it.”

 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

 

This time, this kiss is softer, his hands tenderly caressing my back; while my fingers begin to untie his coat. This one is far easier to undo than the last. With care, I take it and drape it over the chair next to us.

 

We had made love several times since our departure, but I must admit that neither a dank cave or a cold, sharp rock are ideal for this sort of thing not to mention doing it quickly for fear of  danger. But tonight, I want to enjoy this intimate moment.

 

He catches my hips and knots my legs around his waist. I don’t know how, but I manage to kick off my boots while we share a heated kiss. I can feel his arousal between my legs, my belly reacts with a growing heat. Our lips and tongues move at the same pace and I being to feel a bit dizzy from our kiss. Please Anders, never stop!

 

He sits at the end of the bed and helps me to find a comfortable pose. I take his face in my hands and rest my forehead against his, taking my breath. His cheeks and lips are a bit red, I suppose I am more red than him from all our kisses. I smile, love-drunk and nearly a mess in his arm, caressing his jaw. Shit… I have stopped kissing. 

 

“I love you, Hawke. And I don't know what I've done to deserve you.”

 

“Anders, shut up.”

 

I kiss him with all my heart, all my feelings for him. I was never so good with words, with declarations of love. It's all I can do to tell him I love him, how much he means to me. 

 

I remove his shirt and caress his torso. I feel the heat of his skin radiate against my body. My fingers slid through his light chest hair, drawing over his muscles; even if I know them by heart. My lips don't leave his, caught in a sweet dance I wish could never stop. It’s only him, it’s only us, the world doesn’t exist anymore.

 

Suddenly, I am on the bed, Anders on me. His hands catch my pants and I lift my thighs to help him remove them, I can’t avoid a thrill of anticipation all along my body. One second later, he is on me again, we're both kissing with desire. But I still try not to rush this moment. My hands seem to have a mind of their own, loosening his laces and dipping beneath the sturdy fabric to caress his firm butt.  His sigh of pleasure is followed by the clunk of his boots against the floorboards, then his trousers join them.

 

My breastband doesn’t last long either. First, his hands catch my breasts in a delicate embrace. Reluctantly, I let his mouth leave mine. A gasp escapes me when his lips close around a nipple, my body bends as I feel more and more lightheaded. I can feel his smile before he licks it, and an amused sound leaves his throat. My fingers slip through his hair, untying it. He kisses the other nipple; another gasp echoes through the room, he really knows how to drive me on the edge. My body bows under his ministrations. I want him inside me, but I calm myself. There is enough reason left in my head to remind me that we have the time to make love.

 

His tongue descends on my belly, only stopping when he meets my last piece of clothing. Anders lightly kisses the scar across my lower belly. I see his eyes, a spark of mischief in them. He has barely touched me but I’m already a mess, if he does what I think, he will be my death.

 

Slowly he takes off my underpants. This bastard wants to torture me; how unfair of him. One day I'll make him pay, but not now I'm enjoying this too much. His hot breath on my skin thrills me, his hands and lips brushing against my skin drive me to the edge in no time. Until now, I had not realized how much I crave affection rather than just sex. I have nearly forgotten what it is to have his hands running on my skin, to have the time to feel ...

 

I lift my feet and in a swift motion I’m left completely nude. My chest rises heavily in anticipation. Anders’ hands graze my inner thighs, tenderly opening them. He lowers his face, his breath against my sensitive spot, my heart beats faster and time seems to slow as he waits, watching me. Finally, he licks slowly, once, twice before I begin to moan. His strong hands catch my hips and he sends sparks of cold and heat through me. I scream louder, even when I try to bite my lips.

 

“Hush or all the village will hear you.” Anders laughs.

 

“Fuck ... you.” is the cleverest answer I can muster.

 

“No, I will fuck you, Hawke. But not yet.”

 

Before I can retort, his mouth and tongue are on my clit again. I lose all my usual composure. My hands grip the sheet, I’m at his mercy and I like that way too much. My first orgasm is ready to crash over me as my breathing quickens. He slows his rhythm, teasing bastard. Despite his slower moves, a wave of pleasure rushes me. I don’t know how, but I’m moaning with my lips closed, nearly dying of pleasure. 

 

I gulp some air, while Anders moves over me and gives me a tender kiss. My hands wander on his skin, he has removed all his clothes. I feel his hardness against my entrance and I admire his self-control. I desperately want him inside me. For a few minutes we only kiss, allowing time for me to regain my breath. Sometimes, I meet his eyes and I can’t help smiling at him. I can see all his love and desire for me; as usual I can only smile lovingly instead of telling him how I feel. 

 

I move my hips, encouraging him to enter, which he does in one single thrust; no need to say how I’m ready for him. We don’t need to talk or to adjust to find the right pace, a gentle one for once. I sigh, glad to have him inside me and to feel our completeness. He licks my neck, his mouth remaining on my jugular. He nibbled at the sensitive spot with his sharp teeth, and I can’t control the delighted sounds I make, he knows all my weak points. Too bad for him, I know his, too. I lightly bite him on his collarbone and he groans with surprise and pleasure. I laugh briefly before he shuts my mouth with a kiss, I can’t explain why, but I’m proud of myself to have catch him off guard. 

 

My arms knot around his back to bring him as close as possible, I need him to cover me completely, I want to feel him, I want to feel everything. His hands catch my hips as he thrusts deeper, dragging a high-pitched moan out of me. His mouth is near my ear and his breath is delightful against my skin.

 

“Anders…” I mutter.

 

“You’re mine, Kat,” he growls before biting the spot under my ear.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Say it,” he commands with a sweet tone.  

 

I briefly realise this is something he needs to hear more often these days. Maybe he wants to be sure I’m here and I won’t leave … but he seems to forget I’m not the kind to obey perfectly. I dig my nails in his muscular back.

 

“I’m yours as long as you’re mine.”

 

His only answer is a deep kiss and I sense his rhythm speeding up. My fingers slip in his hair as I follow his pace, my release coming closer and his, too. Only a few more and …

 

A white flash, my body bows when the waves of my release overwhelm me. A muffled cry of pleasure comes from me, my fingers grip Anders’ hair more strongly. His body suddenly tenses when his own orgasm takes him.

 

We stay motionless for a few seconds, pressing our foreheads together, eyes closed. He tries to move, but I stop him. I just want us to stay united and complete a bit longer, since we don’t need to run. Our hearts race at the same pace. He places a quick kiss on my nose and gives me the sweet smile that makes my heart melt.

 

Finally, he lays next to me. His arms wrapping me in a soft and reassuring embrace. Laying my head on his chest, his caresses soothe me. I’m safe and happy in his arms. Soon my eyes close and the sleep nears…

 

Until a violent pain in my belly tears through me and I bite my cheek not to scream, I feel torn from within. A reminder of a blade cutting through my skin invades my mind. The pain is violent, unbearable, and I must fight to catch my breath. A groan leaves my mouth, my fists clench so tightly that my knuckles go white, tears at the corner of my eyes. The scar on my belly seems to open once more and I can nearly feel the blood flow.

 

“Kat? Is it…”

 

“Yes,” I interrupt him with a more aggressive tone that I wanted.

 

I don’t need to say more, he places his hands on my scar and diffuses a light, calming cold. The wound made by the Arishok’s blade three years ago has the bad habit of reminding me of its existence. If Anders had not been there, I would have been the Champion of Kirkwall for barely ten minutes. He had been exhausted, but he did all he could to heal me. Sadly, it was not enough to completely close the wound. As a result, I still experience sudden bouts of  horrible pain.

 

“Better?” Anders asks with a hint worry in his voice.

 

“A lot better, thank you.”

 

I find my spot on his chest once more, sleep is trying to catch me. Anders pulls a blanket around us. I nearly want to cry of happiness, realising I will have a decent night, finally. 


End file.
